Fate Silver and Gold
by EvilQuarantine
Summary: In the Fourth Fuyuki Grail War, the male King Arthur has been summoned to fight for his absolution and salvation. But Salvation does not come easy when the King of Conquerers, the Hero of the World and the Wise Queen of Assyria stand before you and the female King of Heroes looms overheard, brighter than the Sun itself. [Arthur X Fem Gil] Main pairing.
1. Chapter 1:Prologue

**Don't know if anybody tried Arthur X Fem Gilgamesh before, but I do believe this idea is realtively new. I can almost guarantee Arthur-sama and Gil-tan are going to be ROYALLY OOC as I have no clue as to how they are. The plot will be resembling Fate/Zero but altered occasionally to improve the dynamics and chemistry of the King of Knights and the King of Heroes.**

**I might abandon it half way, so sorry in advance. Anyways, read and review!**

"...What do you desire?" A voice asked the King of Knights, who lay mortally wounded and on Death's door.

...Hallucination...

Thought the King. The despair resultant from his ideals slowly overwhelmed him. His knights lay dead and Britain in ruins due to the Civil War. Many thoughts come to one's mind when they Death pulls him into it's cold embrace.

"...King... What do ye want?" This time the voice addresses the King by his title, as of to rid him of his doubt.

"I want...to... undo this..." The King replied to whatever that was calling out to him, scanning his eyes over the red field of Camlann, his dead knights and slain enemies, along with the crows feeding on their bloody flesh, defiling what honor they died with.

"...make it so... that I would never have existed." The King of Knights added, proclaiming his dying will.

"It can be arranged." The voice spoke again, compelling the King to dispel his hazy consciousness. The voice wasn't that of a human... scratch that, it wasn't that of a living being. Rather than being the monotonous voice of golems that the King fought, this alien voice contained _emotions_. It was a slithery, disgusting tone with overwhelming negativity.

But the thread of hope it extended towards the fallen King was enough to make him disregard the instinctive repulsion towards the voice. The will to undo this was so overpowering that the King ignored all logic and instincts.

"So it shall be, King Arthur... No _Heroic Spirit_ Arthur Pendragon." The voice declared, in a strangely gleeful tone.

The King was a failure as a King, as he could not protect his country. He was a failure as a liege, as his knights laid dead. He was a failure as a friend as he did not even know what his friends desired, always blinded by his ideals. He failed as a husband as well. To sum it all up, one could say, the King failed in life.

The King wondered how Britain would be without him. How would Gawain, Bedivere, Kay and other lead their life? Would Guinevere and Lancelot get married? Ah, that would have been nice. Who will lead and defend Britain? One of his own knights or someone new? Perhaps, Bedivere could pull out Caliburn. His sworn brother was especially compassionate even amongst the greatest knights of the realm. No, maybe Sir Lancelot! The sight of the Greatest Knight leading Britain's greatest host was enough to make the barbarians and invaders cower in fright.

But what fate would lead Morgana and Merlin? Mordred would probably never be born. Too bad, he was indeed a splendid knight. The King was at fault for his son's discontent. Only if he knew, the King would never hesitate to embrace Mordred as a son. That fellow was indeed dedicated and willing to serve and please. Morgana defiled his innocence and dedication, making the poor child hate everything.

Idle thoughts swarmed the King's mind as he waited to be summoned into the future, for one final War.

* * *

When the gods created Gilgamesh they gave her a perfect body.

Shamash, the glorious sun endowed her with beauty,

Adad, the god of the storm endowed her with courage,

The great gods made her beauty perfect, surpassing all others,

Terrifying like a great wild bull.

Two thirds they made her god and one third man.

Her beauty surpassed all others. Her want even more so. Like the raging Bull of Heaven and the Stormy tempest of Tiamat, Gilgamesh took whatever she desired, be it men, women or wealth. The gods made her so that the entire world remains her garden, all the wealth and treasure her belonging. All of mankind was beneath her, subservient to her and exists to please her only.

"You beauty puts the goddess Ishtar to shame, Your Majesty."

Gilgamesh has long forgotten the man that praised her so. But she did remember that his house and family were the first of many to be targeted by Ishtar's wrath and trampled by the Bull.

The gods took not only her beloved Uruk, but also the only person who remained her friend to the end...Endiku...

Gilgamesh gradually learned to embrace death, content, not because of her vast treasury, but because of the memories she forged with Endiku. She could die in peace.

"...What do you desire?" A slight voice called out from Gilgamesh's mind.

"Nothing..."

Indeed, the King's desires were fulfilled.

"Do you not wish to see ... what becomes of your garden, millennia after your death?" The voice sounded again, bringing another offer, as if trying to coax the King of Heroes.

"Huh... Maybe..." Replied the King, with barely any interest.

"It can be arranged."

A new adventure lay before Gilgamesh. But this one would be without Endiku and she would be alone once again. But maybe... just maybe... her heart would find the solace it craves.


	2. Chapter 2:Summoning

**After a long hiatus, I present to you, the 2****nd**** chapter of a totally cracked love story between characters with virtually no chemistry.**

… l .. i .. ll …Fill.

Let ea…. ve… asunder... time.

..et .. essence. Let stone and the …. of contracts be the foundation. Let my … .cestor. Raise a wall, against … shall fall. Close the fo…. Come out from the crown. Rotate the three-branched road … Kingdom.

An oath shall be sworn here! I shall attain virtues… of all of Heaven. I shall have dominion… evils of all of Hell!

As his eyes open, the sight of a grandiose church reveals itself. The stones, the glass and the carpet, all reflect the radiance of his, Arthur Pendragon's, Summoning. The walls are the smoothest he has ever seen, polished like a blade. The benches made of dark wood, of a quality impossible to for even the finest carpenter in Camelot to produce. The ceiling has a grand chandelier shining brighter than any lamp in his time and not a single candle stood atop it.

'Strange.'

These did not awe Arthur. He had never seen anything like this, not even in the halls of the most prosperous monarchs.

'Ah, I already know.'

He knew that the chandelier was fitted with light bulbs that produce light from electricity. He knew the walls were made of sand polished granite, the benches from furnished oak. He knew how much the world had progressed a millennium after his demise. Arthur now knew of Heroes and Empires of all ages, of those that rose and fell long before the Britons existed, of the men that made them, lead them and destroyed them.

The Grail had made him aware of cultural changes that conspired after his time, which is now considered as the 5th century AD.

A man and a woman stood before him. His sheath Avalon lied on the altar. The first Command Seal on the back of the man's hand was barely visible under the sleeves of long trench coat.

'Now for the formalities…'

"I ask you, are you worthy to be my Master?"

"I am." The man, with Oriental features foreign to Arthur, answered curtly, with no awe, respect or fear, but perhaps slight elation of a child obtaining his desired toy.

Arthur resisted his slight urge to scoff but no emotion surfaced on the stony face of a King he always wore. The man, disrespectful as he may be, was his Master. His _prana_ (the secret force inside all things that Merlin always spoke about) flowed through Arthur's body.

This man will aid him in his quest for the Grail, and for that, they will use one another.

For his country and for his companions, he will become the means, the tool, the weapon needed to win this War.

The man failed to hold Arthur's interest any longer and thus the King turned to the woman.

"I am..." His own voice died down as Arthur was about to introduce himself to the fair maiden, as a knight was obliged to.

What was he, now? _A King_? Maybe _a knight_? Or the son of Uther Pendragon?

Arthur smiled ever so slightly, for here he was, introducing himself to a fair maiden as he did many, many years ago.

Shimmering white hair, translucent pale skin and red irises, adorned her graceful figure, clothed in all white. But even more surprising than her doll like beauty was her innocent expression, one which lays bare all that she felt. Calling her 'sheltered' would be an understatement. Even Guinevere kept a more guarded expression than her and she grew up in an Abbot for God's sake.

"I am Saber. Nice to meet you, my lady."

He tried to sound gentle, but his voice came out gruff and heavy, which frightened the woman a little. His manner of speech in Camelot had always been severe and concise, even to his knights, exception being Guinevere. Even so, he found no solace in her, for it was only a farce and never something real no matter how much Arthur had treasured her. A dream of a united Britain had united them but Arthur's so-called_ perfection_ was too much for any woman to love.

Arthur, no Saber, had not noticed how long his reverie had lasted, but the woman's close proximity had snapped him out of it. With bright red curious eyes, the woman inspected his armor and his cape.

"What is it, my lady?" He asked again, his voice still monotonous and cold, despite his best attempts. That said, this strange language, likes of which he heard perhaps once in his lifetime from a Saxon chief, came naturally to him.

How convenient.

"Uh, um..." She hesitated, etiquette perhaps, most likely considering his feelings. Oh, what a kind woman she is! To consider the feelings of a Servant was quite rare for mages who single-mindedly pursue knowledge and power.

However, Saber already knew the question.

Moreover, as the man lacked that etiquette and consideration, his enquiry was direct.

"Are you King Arthur Pendragon or one of his knights?"

As it was specifically Avalon, they must have aimed to summon the King of Knights. Or did they lack any other catalyst? Wouldn't Lancelot's prowess in battle be better in the Holy Grail War? After all, Saber's kingship counts for nothing in a war between the greatest of Heroes in all of history.

'A thousand years forward and still he trumps me...' Saber thought ruefully.

Saber nodded to the man and manifested Excalibur in a flash of blinding gold light. His ideals given form by the Lady of the Lake, it forged beyond the physical world by the Elementals. This long sword was not an heirloom; it was not forged nor was it plundered from the foe. The greatest treasure of Arthur, of Camelot and Britain, was now the Noble Phantasm of Arthur Pendragon, King of Knights and Servant of the Saber Class.

The man showed no outward expression but his eyes gleamed at the sight of Excalibur, the Sword of Promised Victory. He was pleased, not that Arthur cared in the least.

He was judging the man, and in turn, the man was judging him, physique, prana, movements and all.

"Pfff..." The sound of muffled laughter resounded in the hall. They both turned simultaneously toward the source of the laugh, the woman in white.

""What is it?"" Both the questions overlapped.

"Well, you two, umm, are kind of similar, I mean, have the same look in your eyes." The woman explained in a vague way.

'To be compared to this man...' Saber grimaced inwardly at such an insult. Surely, he did not hold such deadness in his eyes, did he?

A few days passed since the summoning. The halls of the castle Saber and his master resided in were always quiet and desolate amidst the winter storm. The man, his master, was Kiritsugu Emiya, his eyes reflected the deaths that he saw and also those he caused. The woman, his wife, was Iryasveil von Einzbern, an artificial human, termed homunculus, created by Einzbern a noble family of Germany, past France and the sea. Surprisingly enough, the barbaric Saxons originated from this land.

The master of the castle, the old and decrypt Lord Einzbern made himself scarce and only once did he show his approval to Kiritsugu for summoning the King of Knights as his Servant. Saber later came to know that Kiritsugu Emiya was the representative of the Einzberns in the Fuyuki Grail War, with no wish of his own but that of the Einzberns. Saber did not know what that 'wish' was, as no one enlightened him, he did not care either.

The other enigma of the desolate castle was the little girl who looked so much like Irysveil. The girl was the daughter of Kiritsugu and Irysveil, Illysveil von Einzbern. Saber did not ask why she had her mother's maiden name. He could guess that marriage to Irysveil had been a sort of 'payment' for the mercenary Kiritsugu Emiya and their daughter was a hostage for their good behavior.

Kiritsugu only found happiness in his wife and daughter; they were his family, his own 'Camelot' that he must protect. Saber did not like his Master, but his cause was easy to sympathize with.

The Holy Grail War, the stage set in Fuyuki City of Japan was the ultimate battlefield for seven Servants, each with their own strengths and weaknesses. This was not a tourney; the Servants would not be knights like Saber and would not fight fair. For the sake of Victory, Saber would put his trust in the hands of Kiritsugu Emiya and Irysveil von Einzbern.

And so Saber's days passed, drinking tea was Irysveil, planning with Kiritsugu and watching Ilya play around, innocently unaware of the tempest they were headed towards.

l .. i .. ll …Fill.

Let ea…. ve… asunder... time.

..et .. essence. Let stone and the …. of contracts be the foundation. Let my … .cestor. Raise a wall, against … shall fall. Close the fo….. Rotate the three-branched road … Kingdom.

From the Seventh He… attended to by three great words… come forth from the ring of restraint, Protector of the Balance!

As the incantations became clearer, the King felt herself materializing in the world, within the confines of Reality. First, her body, then the golden armor that adorned it likes a second skin, her treasury and then her treasures.

"Impossible!"

"The ritual failed?!"

"Hmm..."

Three voices resounded in front of her. The voices were still muffled as her senses adapted to her new body. The blurry sight she perceived, gradually gained focus.

She was standing on the center of the summoning circle. The three men before her all bore similar expressions of shock, despite the differences in age.

The one at the center wore red clothes and kept his beard in a peculiar way, tapering down from his chin. His bearings were noble and obviously, he prides himself to be someone of stature.

'Humans have taken to mating with beasts, have they?' The King though as she evaluated the man, her Master, she thought as such. Master he may be, his first words spoken will decide his fate. All, without expectation, were but serfs before her presence.

The other two men were unremarkable and unworthy of the slightest consideration.

"You..." The King addressed the man, her Master, who had returned to his senses. Confusion and disappointment was evident in his eyes, but he kept up appearances quite well despite of that.

"Would you call yourself... my _Master_?" The King of Heroes, Gilgamesh asked, emphasizing Master with much venom and malice. Neither the slight crease in the man's forehead nor his hardened jaw escaped her notice.

Without even confirming the identity of his Servant, the fool tries to address her. Nevertheless, he hesitates to apologize and grovel for the offense.

...These curs hold such levels of foolish pride even in the face of the King of Heroes!

"Are you truly Gilgamesh, the King of Ancient Babylon and Uruk?" The younger of the other two men asked.

""Kirei!"" The others quickly sought to silence the damn mongrel and rein him in.

The King's golden armor clattered as she shook in utter rage.

"You... You..." The King closed her blood ref eyes and breathed deeply, her whole body spasming uncontrollably as the Gates of Babylon threatened to burst open and skewer all where they stand.

"You. Filthy. Mutt. How... DARE YOU?!"

But the man remained as apathetic as ever, ignorant of his demise.

"DIE A DOG'S DEATH!" Gilgamesh growled. Neither man nor god ever questioned _her_ Kingship. If a mongrel failed to recognize her Kingship even in her presence, he would be a _dead_ mongrel soon enough.

A sword from her treasury headed straight towards the apathetic man.

In a flurry of shadows, a robed Servant emerged and tried to deflect the sword. However, try he may, the sword broke clean through the dagger and pierced the Servant's shoulder inciting a grunt of pain.

Whatever her Master said to calm her, did not even register in her thought. Her mind was too clouded with rage to give a damn to anything else but the utter and complete annihilation of the filth before her.

"How dare you taint my possession with your filthy blood, mongrel!" She raged as a barrage of swords and spears darted towards the black Servant and skewered him like a pig. He collapsed on the spot and writhed in excruciating pain, dyeing the wooden floor in blood. A sinister smile formed on Gilgamesh's face as the Servant perished miserably, on a bed of his own blood.

Nothing less would do for the slimy worm he was.

The man was now alarmed as his emotionless eyes registered what happened to a Servant in a matter of mere seconds. He was doomed, as simple as that. He would regret his bravado now, he would beg but he will beg in vain. Gilgamesh would make sure that this mutt suffered in the worst way possible and the pain would follow him into oblivion.

"By the power of this Command Seal, I order you King of Heroes to calm yourself and cease all attack!"

A red glow illuminated the dark room as Gilgamesh's Master held up his hand. The first of his Command Seals has left him.

Gilgamesh felt her fury leaving her, as the absolute ability of a Command Seal over a Servant manifested itself. She was simply unable to process her wrath towards the man or her Master. She was still angry, but this anger was a strangely logical feeling, inciting none of the impulse she felt a moment ago.

"Please forgive Kirei, Your Majesty. He's simply ignorant of the rules of nobility and hierarchy. It was just and innocent question." His Master spoke, while bowing as deeply as one could while standing.

'Questioning _my_ authority is an innocent question?' Gilgamesh thought with much scorn.

But she made no response and spared not a glance towards the man, Kirei. The other remaining presence in the room, the old man was forcing Kirei to bow down as well, severely reprimanding him.

"Risei-san, Kirei, leave us now. I'll notify you later."

They listened to the order easy enough and left, closing the door behind them. Gilgamesh glanced disinterestedly at the man who angered her just a moment ago. Her haughty gaze of evaluation weighed the pros and cons of the man's existence. In this era of degenerate, rotten and ever so subservient humans, that man was indeed a rare find.

After their departure, it was just Servant and Master.

"Your Majesty..." He bagan, but one look silenced her. As her blood like red eyes met his own, all strength seem to leave his body. Before the greatest King the world has ever seen, the man was but an insect, utterly powerless and weak.

"Explain." Gilgamesh commanded, her face void of all emotion, superior and sublime.

"I am Tohsaka Tokiomi; the elder person was Risei Kotomine, the Overseer of the Grail War, with his son Kirei Kotomine. I ... intervened as killing Kirei would turn the Overseer against us, Your Majesty, please understand." Tokiomi Tohsaka spoke concisely and quickly enough so that Gilgamesh is not offended mid speech.

Then she smiled. Her godly features turned utterly sinister with that slight and cruel smile.

"Worry not, Tokiomi Tohsaka. Kirei Kotomine shall be forgiven this one time for his grave offense." Gilgamesh spoke serenely, like someone who believed herself to be generous and benevolent. Her red eyes, now full of mirth, focused on the large wooden door that Kirei Kotomine had left through.

Kirei was a rare breed of human. A breed not often seen and thus enigmatic and mystical. However, for the King, it would be quite entertaining.

Kirei was an empty vessel in the form of a human, devoid of most human emotions. Therefore, the King would fill Kirei Kotomine with whatever ideas and emotions that would be most entertaining. She would watch as the vessels morphs itself around its contents, taking different forms and colors. When the vessel can hold no more, when it reaches its climax, the King will watch as it either destroys itself or reaches fulfillment.

Gilgamesh refocused on Tokiomi Tohsaka, who had been relieved at Gilgamesh's kindness.

"But you, Tokiomi, I'll remember that." She spoke as she gazed upon his hand where the Command Seals were. Tohsaka shuddered.

**Therefore, Saber has some misconception about Emiya's wish and Gil has much wrath, as expected. I just read Orgairu and I'm desperately trying not to make Saber nor Gil sound like 8-man.**

**Slow burning romance FTW.**

**Read and Review plz.**


	3. Chapter 3: Devolution

**Here you go…**

* * *

**Saber P.O.V.**

Three days from departure.

The winter storm had finally seized howling and a glorious morning revealed itself to the Einzbern Castle and the Knight who waited to witness it. The forest was white with snow, with not even a single leaf on the skeletal trees and yet it reminded of the long, mossy and homely moors of the British country.

_Were they still the same? _

Do the men of this era feel the same _oneness_ he felt as the earthy smelling wind hit his face and the saddle sores his hips?

Do they look over the desolate moors as the knight once did and fell the same love, duty and determination the King once felt?

No. They did not. The wind did not touch their face or caress their hair. The saddle, now a seat, assured that they would sit in utmost comfort as the mechanical transport; cars take them to their destination. Too busy to heed either beauty or nature, a man of this age pursues nothing but selfish things.

They do not think collectively as his knights, each man living in his own little world of desires. Motherland had become mere territories and borders that can be traded if it has benefits. The dwellers of a land bore love only for the wealth the land wields and not for the land itself.

No matter how much he thought otherwise, the world of this time is shallow, the people have made it so. The Knight hated this, the people, the cowardice and the policies that shelter and justify this.

_Oh God! From where ever did he get this nihilism?_

The dawn turned into day as Saber endlessly turned the pages of yet another book in the Einzbern library. He had never been remotely scholarly in his life, but books do indeed have a charm of their own. With nothing better to do, Saber set it upon himself to go through volumes after volumes of history, fiction and the few 21st century novels as well.

He did not particularly enjoy all that he read, and some books were downright awful, but leaving something halfway was not Saber's habit.

What he did enjoy was history.

He read about various myths in the early hours of the morning and continued to do so a few hours after dawn.

With each hero he read about, he imagined what it would be like to combat them, legends like he himself, knights, kings, and monsters. (However, he had to admit that the Heroes of the Iliad and Argonautica had much more flare.)

Much of known history was filled with war, with Britain being the most warlike nation. Although he was proud of the heights that Britain reached, the war and bloodshed needed irked him.

Irysveil's welcome intrusion into his room pulled Saber out of his melancholic thoughts. Although a homunculus, Irysveil was indeed the most humane person he ever met. Truly, Kiritsugu was a lucky man.

"You read a lot of books, Saber." Irysveil commented offhanded-ly as she poured tea into two porcelain teacups.

"Hmm? Really?" Saber mumbled in reply, taking neither his eyes nor his attention off _the_ _Legends of the Crescent Moon_ in his hands.

"Do you really like them?"

"Hmm... Sure."

"Which myth are you reading now, Saber?"

"...Okay..."

"Would you like a bug in your tea?"

"...Okay... No, wait, _what_?" Saber turned sharply and faced the full wrath of Irysveil's smile. As King, Saber was relieved of the _'woo maidens'_ aspect of knights, but even so, Saber should have known better than to ignore the lady of his liege.

"Ah, oh well, Saber. These books are quite monotonous y'know, I should tell Kiritsugu to order a few movies for you to watch. There are quite a lot featuring you yourself."

Saber was relieved that Irysveil dropped the matter so easily and served him tea, which did not in fact contain a bug.

"Movies... sound good." Saber said with a smile. He was almost out of books anyway, he thought as he scanned over the glossaries one last time.

If he were actually 'alive', these leisurely times would be well spent in swinging a blunt sword at some unlucky tree or skewering a straw doll with a spear. But Servants did not get rusty or dull. Despite the intake of food, Saber would always have the physique he honed in life during his time as a Servant.

How... dead he was.

* * *

**Archer P.O.V**

Gilgamesh always thought herself different from the common serfs who couldn't live without human interaction. She thought isolation to suite her best and indeed, she believed herself quite isolated during her rule.

However, the sheer emptiness of Tohsaka mansion forced her to reconsider. Inhabited by only the dull bastard Tokiomi and herself, the mansion was little more than a haunt for critters and pests. The priests had disappeared, foiling Gilgamesh's plan to influence the younger one, whose name was Kirei Kotomine. Nevertheless, he would be back and there would be time, so Gilgamesh put a hold on that particular line of thought.

Even so, the King was, quite literally, starved of entertainment. Tokiomi's wife and spawn had left in favor of safer holding, taking all the servants with them. Gilgamesh now found herself deprived of even the slightest amusement.

Moreover, the wine tasted like camel piss, not that she ever tasted such filth. But an apt comparison nonetheless she reasoned, as the bottles were not even a century old.

As she lay stretched on a shabby old couch in the cellar, her mind wandered. The cravens of this age did not interest Gilgamesh in the slightest. Tohsaka Tokiomi was indeed an apt representation of humanity now, servile and full of false pride.

The fool probably thought he was being clever and manipulative, that his words could direct Gilgamesh to do his bidding, that the Grail was all but in his hands. But the King of Heroes had been subject to such tricks countless times, by individuals far more deceitful and dubious than the petty mage.

Gilgamesh made a mental note not to let Tokiomi survive the Grail War. She would not let him get the Grail, for that would be far, far too anticlimactic. She was Archer after all, able to exist indefinitely without a Master, she thought with a wily smile.

"If killing is your idea of entertainment, you should start with yourself."

Gilgamesh was suddenly overcome with amusement and started a fit of laughter and giggles.

It wasn't even funny. Still the tree's words made her smile even now.

"Heh..." She sighed. If she now thought _Utnapishtim_ was being funny, the wine has surely got to her.

Anyhow, the King left those thoughts in favor of others. If the men and women of this era fail to provide some iota of amusement, the King of Heroes would have to find it amongst those of other eras. And six of them would be readily available in the coming month.

The King quietly slipped into the land of dreams, a place of a lion and her cub.

* * *

**Sola Ul P.O.V**

The airhostess had been slightly intimidated by Lord El Melloi, as her smile faltered a little whenever she walked by his seat. Archibald's cold glare must have hurt the woman's pride, who was no doubt accustomed to the fawning of men. Even so, Sola felt nothing but slight amusement towards the woman who tried to charm her fiancée.

Archibald's frown was so deep-set that Sola wondered if it would leave wrinkles. He really, _really _did not like airplanes, for they were _'disgraceful for a magus'_. Being a mediocre magus herself, Sola had none of the stereotypical reservations of one and freely enjoyed the luxury of modern technology, earning her a glare ever time, the next one more severe than the last.

Although afternoon, the skies around the plane harbored a mighty storm over the Aegean Sea underneath. The pilots were obviously in a hurry to reach the airport.

Finally, they landed in Turkey. Not wasting an ounce of time, Archibald called in some lanky of the clock tower who arranged for a car to their destination. Again, Archibald's displeasure was evident, having to board yet another 'modern contraption'. However, the frowns soon melted into a smile as he caressed the fossilized fragments of seashells, each with a hole on its shell.

They were traveling to Hissarlik, an elevated land on the shores of stormy Aegean sea. The raindrops drummed against the windows and the thunder drummed against her heart. Seldom had she seen such furious tempest back in Britain or her retreat in Denmark. Even in Turkey, this was unprecedented, making the storm even more fearsome.

Sola looked out at the Aegean, where hundred of thousands of ships had once sailed to their doom. Waves upon waves battered them, in the Age of Gods. After that mighty fleet, came another, ages later, from the East.

No doubt remained in her heart that the Aegean danced madly to welcome the Heroic Spirit they were going to summon in Hissarlik.

They arrived at the hill, a naturally fortified place near the sea.

Archibald promptly got out of the car and stood beside the preserved excavation site of the hill. The Clock Tower had removed all personnel from this Heritage site for the day to ensure everything went uninterrupted.

Talking measured steps, her fiancée strolled over the ruins.

"Behold Sola Ul, this is Troy! This is Acropolis, Ilium, the Temple and the dream. The very dream that led Constantine, Xerses, Alexander and Julian here, also leads me! The dream of glory!" Archibald boasted without looking back at her.

Sola was not impressed by his rant, though she did raise an eyebrow at the claim of '_glory_', an unusual word form the lips of a practical, hardliner magus.

But her heart would not calm down as it continued its frantic beats, grating her nerves even more than Archibald. She knew Alexander swore his arms to the Temple here, Xerses sacrificed a thousand oxen, Julian knelt at the altar and Constantine, too, wanted to establish his city here.

Hissarlik, the unassuming hill beside the sea had been the grounds of 11 cities and civilization, destroyed and rebuilt repeatedly. Troy was only the sixth from the top, with five more ruins preceding it back to the eighth millennium BC.

As a magus, the sheer grandeur of the place overwhelmed her, the soil made holy by the blood of heroes and by the descent of gods.

Sola noticed that Archibald had drawn a magic circle upon the wet sand. She was now aware that her clothes and hair were dripping wet, her body shivering. Archibald cast a spell on himself to avoid her predicament but lacked the etiquette to care for a lady, as expected.

Placing the fossilized seashells on the circle, Lord El Melloi held out his arm and recited the spell words for summoning a Heroic Spirit.

_"Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation..."_

The magic circle started to glow in a faint golden hue.

_"Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall..." _He spoke again, and took a deep breath. The Command Seal shone brighter still, the red and blue veins of his hand illuminated even in the scarce light of dusk.

_"Let the three forked road from the Crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate! _

_Let it be declared now! _

_Your Flesh shall serve under me and my fate shall accompany your sword!"_

The golden light got brighter and molded itself into a barely humanoid figure, unperturbed by the downpour of rain.

_"Submit to the beginning of the Holy Grail! Answer, if you would submit to this will and this truth!"_

The definite shape of a man emerged from the light. The radiance was expelled in a circular save of light that travelled over the ruins, the beaches and to the horizons.

The man was no less radiant than the light, with pale blonde hair even in the rain. He opened his eyes and revealed two orange orbs holding emotions she was too inexperienced to understand. He was fully clad in functional, non-decorative armor emphasizing ease of movement and his godlike physique.

The Hero had an easy smile on his face and a spear hung loosely from his hand, both deadly and meant to strike the heart. A shield was mounted on his back too and a short sword on his leather belt.

"State your name, _Servant_." Archibald commanded the Hero highly.

Ignoring his Master, he turned towards the sea and lifted his head towards the skies, a soft sigh leaving his mouth. There was such contentment in his expression that Sola felt ashamed for not being able to comprehend it. The rain hit his face full on, steamed down his strong jaw, and sculpted neck, before disappearing into his tunic.

The shield, which now came into their view, left no doubts about his identity. A shield wrought of gold and silver_, of the very essence of the world_. Circle by circle, the shield told the tale of many a different story.

Forged by the Smith God Hephaestus (Vulcan) for the mightiest Hero of all the World.

For the son of the Argonaut, Peleus.

For the son of the nymph, Thetis.

For the Prince of the Myrmidons.

Achilles of Phthia.

* * *

**The Boy P.O.V**

The crazy man laughed again. He was frightening. The boy tried not to look at the warm, but dead bodies of his family. However, the beady eyes of his sister called out him again and again.

The man said some weird words and painted something with blood. The boy was curled up into a ball on the floor, taking an occasional peak at his approaching death.

He instinctively shut his eyes are the 'black' light that erupted out of nowhere.

"Oh wow! What a pretty bishojo-sama! My second favourite, y'know, for killing that is! Ah, don't worry, I would kill you!" The crazy man exclaimed and tapped about on the floor.

A woman's voice spoke some words, none of which the boy could understand.

"Oh yeah, almost forgot about it, huh? All right! I'll take care of him right now!" The crazy man announced and stepped towards him. The boy dared to open his eyes and saw the maniacal eyes of his killer, a bloody knife held to his throat.

He closed his eyes and thought of happy things.

He waited for the end.

But he kept on thinking, _he could keep on thinking_. He was still alive.

He heard a thud and the clatter of the falling knife against the floor, then a sickening _crack_.

Moments later, a warm hand ruffled his hair and he felt a slight discomfort as the tape was taken off his mouth. A wonderful smell cut through the metallic stench of blood and calmed his nerves.

The boy opened his eyes.

The smiling face of a beautiful Onee-san with pointy ears greeted him. Her warm smile was almost enough for him to forget the tragedies of the day, _almost_.

"What's you name, child?" Her wondrous, musical voice rang out.

His gaze turned to the woman's hand that held on to _something_.

"S-Shiro." He replied in a trance.

It was an arm.

* * *

**SURPRISE, SURPRISE !**

**Did you guys see that coming?!**

**Anyways, sorry for OOC Arthur, but he's bound to be different. He cant really be playful like Fate/Prototype, so I opted for Kirei-ish personality, without the malice of course. Achilles is there to bring out the jealousy in Arthur, coupled with the Greek's innate hate for royalty. Semiramis is Caster and doubles for Assassin too. There will be slight Arthur X Semiramis, a part of character development. The awesomeness that is Iskandar shall remain intact and he'll be as much in character as I can make him.  
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**Reviews inspire me a lot, and Fanfic Senpais are welcome to guide (criticize) me. ****  
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**Rate and Review!**

**P.S. There will not be _much_ Achilles x Gil action as I cannot fathom how anyone falls for a egotist bastard like him (Sorry, Briseis). He's not Brad Pitt, is he? :/**


	4. Chapter 4: Hiatus

Well I hate to say this, but this story's status has now changed.

Form [unofficially hiatus] to [officially hiatus].

**Everything Below Has Spoiler for FSN, Fate/Zero, Fate/Apocrypha, Fate/ Wiki- oh no, its just Wikia.**

That's because I really have no idea what Achilles wishes for from the Grail and what his Noble Phantasms should be? If he's Lancer, would he still have a chariot? Or does his spear get on steroids?

One more thing, that is Arthur Pendragon's lineage. He has [dragon blood], so technically he should have inexhaustible prana, should he? In FSN Shirou activates it by using his own circuits but I cant imagine Irri or Kiritsugu doing the same. Maybe that will activate if he is cut off form his Master's prana supply by Achilles' [Diatrecon Aster Logche] or when he looses his Master and gets immense prana boost for a short time before he dies.

Anyways, why the fuck doesn't Saber have Avalon in Fate/Zero? Irri or Kiritsugu do not need it most of the time. Obviously, she would own Lancer and Berserker with [Avalon], _which is EX_ and should negate Lancer's [Gae Budhe]. I do not give a damn about canon, Saber is going to get [Avalon] and as Kiritsugu's Servant, he'll be as strong physically as Berserker Lancelot, check the stats on the wiki.

The Banquet of Kings (Monarchs here) is going to be something else. Saber is not a little girl and his convictions are stronger. By the way, canon Saber lived for forty fuckin' years! She is anything but a little girl.

Well, I am not sure that this story is going to be continued, but there are a few rough drafts left incomplete due to lack of ideas. The last thing I want is a half baked, illogical and therefore forced romance.

EvilQuarantine fighting evil and writing fanfics for the sake of Westeroes! Over and Out.


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